


on the silver screen

by aghamora



Series: Flaurel Ficlets [7]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghamora/pseuds/aghamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel isn’t terribly invested in this movie, for two reasons.</p><p>One? It’s another boring, quirky-boy-meets-quirky-girl rom-com, which thus far has failed to be romantic <i>or</i> comedic. </p><p>And two? Frank has been rubbing his hand up and down her thigh for the past fifteen minutes, in exactly the right way to get her going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the silver screen

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: frank & laurel just can't seem to keep their hands to themselves. not even in public.

Laurel isn’t terribly invested in this movie, for two reasons.

One? It’s another boring, quirky-boy-meets-quirky-girl rom-com, which thus far has failed to be romantic _or_ comedic.

And two? Frank has been rubbing his hand up and down her thigh for the past fifteen minutes, in exactly the right way to get her going.

It’d taken quite a bit of effort to convince him to go see a movie with her in the first place, “because we never do normal couple things, and if we’re dating, we should at least have date night once in a while.” He had grumbled, but caved, though predictably he’d lost what little interest he’d had in the movie within the first five minutes.  

Then, the thigh-touching had commenced. She should’ve known wearing a skirt around an idle Frank is never a good idea.

“C’mon,” he urges. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Laurel scoffs and pops a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “I’m not going to the bathroom to have  _sex_  with you, okay? The movie isn’t even half over.”

“Like you’re even paying attention.”

“I am. I’m enjoying it.”

“Really?” He looks skeptical. “What’s the main character’s name?”

Shit. He has her there.

“Uh… I… he-” The feeling of his hand slipping into her panties all at once makes her fall silent, and she almost spills the popcorn. “ _Oh_.”

“Pretty sure that’s not his name.”

 _God_ , he’s good with his hands, touching and stroking her wet heat, but not dipping his fingers inside. He likes to make her wait, she knows. Make her beg for it.

Well, it’s not happening today. She’s not such a horndog that she can’t make it an hour without sneaking off for a quickie with Frank. She’s not a nymphomaniac, for Christ’s sake.

So, reluctantly, she drags his hand out of her panties and drops it back into his lap.

“Keep your hands to yourself. I’m not getting charged with public indecency.”

“Live a little. No one’s gonna see.”

She tries clamping her thighs together the next time his hand creeps over, but he manages to worm his way between them regardless, find her clit, and stroke it maddeningly slowly.

And that’s when Laurel decides it’s payback time.

Stealthily, she moves her hand over to him, gripping him gently between his legs. He’s at half-mast already – which is a state she’s convinced Frank probably spends about 70% of his life in – and the instant she places her hand there, he looks over at her and smirks.

“Time for revenge, huh?”

“I’m keeping you busy,” she tells him as she works down the zipper on his jeans. “Now shh. I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Yeah, she’s done classier things than give a guy a handjob while simultaneously eating popcorn and watching a movie. Luckily, they’re alone in this row, and near the back, which makes their risk of getting caught relatively low.

Frank is tense, but he’s not making any sounds, and suddenly, she finds herself frustrated by the fact. He’s never particularly loud in bed – occasional grunts and groans, but never much more than that, and she likes hearing him moan.

She likes  _making_ him moan.

She picks up the pace, tightening her hold on him and feeling his cock throb in her palm. That finally earns her a grunt, which he then tries to mask with a cough.

“Fuck, Laurel…”

Feeling bolder, she sets aside the popcorn, takes a look around to make sure that no one’s watching, and sinks down onto her knees before him, not entirely sure what’s gotten into her. Not bothering to dwell on it, she kisses his tip gently, slowly, so much so that her lips barely even touch it.

When she pulls away and licks her lips clean, she tastes the saltiness there, the undeniable taste of  _him_. It makes her so hot she can barely stand it, not to mention the fact that he’s started stroking her hair as she works – which she likes. A lot.

Laurel flushes, presses her thighs together, and looks up to meet his eyes.

“God,” Frank mutters as soon as she does. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days, babe.”

She smiles, dips her head again, and hollows out her cheeks as she sucks, and that’s all it takes for her to get what she wants: he moans, the deep sound ripping itself from his throat in a burst.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

It’s an order, plain and simple. Laurel wipes her mouth, nods, and rises to stand as Frank tucks himself away, taking off out of the theater. He promptly tugs her into the nearest bathroom, and she follows with a laugh, the bucket of popcorn tumbling on the floor and spilling everywhere.

“See?” he teases after they emerge some time later, sweaty and rumpled. “Told ya there’re more productive ways to spend a Friday night.”

She scoffs. “You’re an animal.”

“Don’t I know it. Now,” he lowers his voice, pulling her close, “what do you say we go for round two? I know of a perfectly good backseat no one’s using.”

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Please,” Frank jokes, leading her out the door. “I was born ready.”


End file.
